January 9, 2011

a bad day

About a week ago, we scheduled an appointment to get insulation done for our house. It was on a killer deal, and since the previous owners of our house turned the perfectly good garage into one gigantic, awkward room (why?!!), we never use it (or heat it) because it's always freezing cold in the winter. We figured after 2 years, it was time to get some use out of the stupid room.
I mentally set an alarm clock for 7:30 a.m. the night before they were to come do the insulation, and guess what?! I forgot to wake up. Oaklen had one heck of a night that night too, so I got no sleep. Which also meant, we slept in. Until nine. When I woke up to my doorbell ringing. I had to answer the door to 3 strange men while still wearing pink snowflake pajamas, no bra (like it makes a difference anyway), wicked bed head and awesome morning breath. I was mortified.
After about 10 minutes of them scooting around in the attic, my heater turned on. 2 minutes later I smelled something burning. 1 minute later I saw smoke. 30 seconds later, I heard one of the men asking me to come out because "I think something's burning!!". I thought the candle warmer I turned on minutes before had somehow fallen over and started a fire, and that the house was going to explode. After searching my house high and low, there was no fire. Or smoke. It was actually dust. From the heater vents. Blowing into my newly cleaned house, into our lungs, and making a nice sheet of brown dust on every square inch of my house. No really. It's everywhere!
We still can't find the exact reason as to why the dust keeps coming through our vents. All we know is that there must be a vent in the attic that's open, and everytime someone goes up there, dust (and lots of it) gets sucked in and then blown out through the heater vents. Luckily it will eventually stop after it all settles in the attic, but now my house smells like burnt irons and dirt. So I get the privilege of cleaning my entire house, top to bottom, clothes, bedding, couches, dishes and silverware, for the next 3 months of my life. Because that's how long it's going to take me.

This is what I get to clean -

Wish me luck. If you don't see or hear from me for a few weeks, you'll know why.